Teleporter (a Hyllis family story #2) by Laurence Dahners Read Free Book Online Page A

hers shot out faster than he could believe. It hammered into the back of his, just above the hilt. His sword flew out of his hand and the point of hers shot up under his arm to rest against his ribs.
    “Um, you’re really fast,” he said flexing his stinging fingers.
    She grinned at him, “And that’s why they let a girl guard the caravan.”
    “Aren’t you supposed to let me take the guard position?” He said, feeling like she’d kind of cheated, even though he knew in his heart he couldn’t have stopped her no matter how prepared he’d been.
    She turned and walked over to pick up the stray practice sword. “In a real fight, nobody waits for you to get ‘on guard.’”
    Tarc admired her confident stride, thinking that a woman like that should be frightening. However, he found her even more attractive.
    A laugh barked out behind him, “Lizeth, are you picking on the yokels again?”
    She’d bent over to pick up the sword, giving Tarc something else to admire. When she stood back up, she sent her brilliant smile of fine white teeth at the man behind Tarc. “Why of course not, Arco. The yokel wanted to know why the Nortons had a girl guarding them. I simply felt compelled to show him why.”
    Arco laughed again and clapped Tarc on the shoulder. “I’d stay away from that one if I were you, youngster. She’s not only ungodly fast with that pig sticker of hers, but she’ll be happy to flay you with that sharp tongue of hers as well.” The man turned back to Lizeth, “You ready for some real practice now?”
    Tarc found himself blushing as Arco stepped out in front of him, justifiably assuming that Tarc could not provide Lizeth a significant challenge. Even though Tarc wasn’t a guard or a sword fighter, he felt embarrassed to have been dismissed so readily. He didn’t like being called a yokel either.
    While the two guards practiced, Tarc did a few of his chores out in the stable and watched them out of the corner of his eye. To his surprise, although Arco was bigger and obviously more powerful than Lizeth, she slipped around his guard and placed the point of her sword against his vitals over and over. Arco swore good-naturedly about it, but it became apparent to Tarc that Lizeth was much deadlier than the big man.
    Not that Arco was slow. Tarc thought he could have defeated any of the Walterston militia that Tarc had ever watched battling it out in practice. It was just that Lizeth was so fast. Each time she did it, Tarc hardly had a notion of how she’d gotten from where she’d been, to where she was, with the point of her sword resting on Arco’s neck or ribs. Realizing he’d dawdled long enough in the stable, he headed back in to the tavern itself.
     
    ***
     
    As Tarc came out of the kitchen into the big room, he saw that most of the merchants from the caravan must have headed to the trading area already. The big door at the front of the tavern swung open just then and Tarc’s heart skipped a beat at the thought that perhaps they had some customers from town. He recognized the man that entered as Asher Farley, one of the wealthiest merchants in town. A couple of big, tough-looking men entered behind him.
    Farley’s eyes swept the room, noting three remaining caravaners sitting at one of the tables. Then Farley and his men turned to the bar where Daum was washing some cups. He walked that way.
    Wondering what was going on, Tarc made his way over to the bar as well, trying to think of some chore he could do there while surreptitiously listening.
    “Well, Hyllis, things are looking a little rough around here for you and yours.”
    Daum’s eyes narrowed as he stood from the sink. Tarc saw him take in the two big men behind Farley and a muscle bunched in his jaw. Daum dispensed with any pleasantries and said, “What do you want Farley?”
    “Well Mr. Hyllis, I’ve been appointed as acting Sheriff and these,” he hooked a thumb back over his shoulder at the two large men behind him, though he